


five kinds of soda pop poured over ice

by ships_to_sail



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Grocery Shopping, M/M, Nonsense, costco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21859969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/pseuds/ships_to_sail
Summary: “I’m sorry - was that a member card?”“Mmhmm. You have to pay to shop here.”“Huh, how pretentious,” David says it while he’s looking at a table full of sunglasses. He picks up a pair of thick, round white frames and slips them on and when he turns back to Patrick he’s smiling. “I love it.”
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 11
Kudos: 195





	five kinds of soda pop poured over ice

**Author's Note:**

> Like all great contributions to English literature, this one was conceived, written, and edited at 3am and literally nothing happens in it

"You're telling me you've seen the sunrise on three different continents and  _ this  _ is the place you're in awe of?"

"I am not 'in awe'. I’ve been to a Costco before.”

“When have you ever set foot inside a Costco?!”

David holds up a finger, a flash of indignation in his eye. “Excuse me. I never said I'd been  _ inside _ . I've been to one in, like, a general sense.” 

“Oh, I gotta hear that story.” Patrick looks at him with his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a straight line, waiting.

David shakes his head, but Patrick stays silent, letting the silence fill the space.

“No. I’m sorry, but no.”

“Was it Mrs. Rose?”

“She will murder you if she hears you say that.”

“Alexis?”

“It’s very sexist that you’ve named two women so far.”

“Then it  _ was  _ Johnny.”

David makes a frustrated little growl sound and Patrick laughs, shifting in the front seat until his body is mostly facing David’s. He pulls the keys from the ignition and cradles them in his hands. “David. Whatever it is, it can’t be that big a deal. We’re not going until you tell me.”

“Adalina,” he says after another few beats, the name bursting out of him like he can’t physically hold it back anymore. “Her car broke down when I was, like, fifteen and she didn’t have another choice. My mother was going to fire her if she didn’t have the laundry done and I guess she needed...whatever we needed.”

“From Costco?”

“I don’t know! I waited in the car.”

Patrick nods his head and opens the car door. “Okay then. Let’s get shopping.”

He’s out the door and headed across the parking lot before David can get his seatbelt undone. He walks with purpose and with a smile, and when David finally catches up with him, he slips and arm underneath Patrick’s elbow and pulls their bodies together. Patrick has to slow down by several steps, but he always does and he never minds. Patrick has to unwind their arms to grab his wallet from his back pocket, but the second it’s back in his pocket his arm joins David’s again.

“I’m sorry - was that a member card?”

“Mmhmm. You have to pay to shop here.”

“Huh, how pretentious,” David says it while he’s looking at a table full of sunglasses. He picks up a pair of thick, round white frames and slips them on and when he turns back to Patrick he’s smiling. “I love it.”

“You have a pair exactly like that at home.”

“But these are only $11!”

“And how much was your at-home pair.”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” David set the sunglasses down carefully in the cart’s top basket. 

Patrick laughs and pulls out his phone, bringing up the notes app and checking the list. “Come on. We’ve got to stay on task if we’re going to get everything for dinner.”

“I still don’t see why we had to come here. They just built that Whole Foods in Elmdale.”

“Because, David. The store finally hit the black this month and I really don’t want to undo all that hard work just to cook dinner for everyone.”

David pouts. “Who all is even coming again?”

Patrick grabs a container of strawberries and two bags of bagels off nearby tables. He looks at David and speaks slowly. “Your mom and dad. Stevie and Twyla. Jocelyn and Roland, and Ted and Alexis.”

“Ugh, that’s so many people. Can’t Alexis come to the next one?”

“David! This party is literally  _ for  _ your sister and Ted. How are we supposed to welcome them home if they’re not actually there?”

“I was sort of thinking maybe they’d just go back to the Galapagos?”

Patrick just shakes his head. The closer she gets to being home the more David pretends he hasn't been missing her desperately. David pulls his phone out of his pocket and leans against the cart, distracting himself from the fact that he is standing in a  _ warehouse _ , while Patrick walks up to a long counter and asks an older man in a white coat something. 

He’s just reading the second round of  _ Us: Weekly  _ headlines currently trending when Patrick comes back with a giant chocolate cake. And David means giant - it looks like some kind of chocolate spare tire, and it’s got frosting rosettes and daisies and ‘WELCOME HOME TED AND ALEXIS: GALAPA-GLAD YOU’RE BACK’ written on it in curly white icing. It’s beautiful, and it looks delicious.

It also makes David want to die. “You with the sweets. What, this place doesn’t sell giant cookies?”

“Not ones big enough for the pun, no. Come on, we’re almost done.”

“Just how big is this place?!”

Patrick leans up and kisses him on the temple. “You can count it as cardio.”

“At least the step app on my phone will work here.”

“There you go, there’s the bright side.” Patrick takes the cart and begins to steer them through the wide isles, through a room that’s literally freezing, where he grabs eggs and milk and the good organic butter that David likes. And all of it is — well, once upon a time David would have called it cheap, but he realizes ‘affordable’ is a better word. They load up on tomatoes, grab a jar of garlic big enough to fit a child in, load up on three different shapes of pasta and even a bottle of olive oil fancy enough that it gives David pause.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Patrick says as he pulls a couple of frozen baguettes out of a freezer and puts them into the cart. 

“Oh thank God.” David has to duck a little bit to rest his head on Patrick’s shoulder, but he does it, closing his eyes and sighing for dramatic effect. Patrick kisses him on the forehead and slides an arm around his waist.

“Don’t swoon on me now, Rose. We’re almost there but there’s just no room for you in the cart.”

“You wouldn’t put something back?”

“Of course not, David.  _ If  _ you needed it, I’d carry you.” He says it casually, the way he always says the things that destroy David the most. David bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep his smile a normal size, but when he speaks his voice is rough.

“Oh, um. Well that is very sweet. Luckily for you won’t be necessary today.” The lines at the front of the store are all at least four people long, but they seem to be moving quickly enough. David is just pulling his phone out of his pocket again when he sees a giant bag of something called brownie brittle and he’s moving before he can fight the siren song.

“David,” Patrick draws out his name like a warning. “What’re you doing.”

“Nothing. Just looking.”

“Then put it back, David.”

“Why did we skip this entire section of the store, Patrick?” He’s got a bag of the brittle, but also a bag of chocolate covered pretzels and a container of peanut M&Ms he can barely grip, which is saying something because David has never had small hands. Patrick’s head falls onto his chest and he sighs.

“Remember what I said about going broke, David?”

David makes a disgusted sound and slides the junk food into the cart. “That is incredibly rude, and also not entirely incorrect. I think I saw cheese puffs.”

“Oh God, not cheese puffs.”

“Mmhmm. Big round bucket.”

“Tell you what. Leave the cheese puffs and I’ll buy you a hot dog for the road.”

“That is a deal, but I will want to discuss shopping at a store that sells both Adidas track suits and hot dogs for consumption.”

“Of course you will.”

And they do. The entire car ride home, hot dogs in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [The Truth About Small Towns](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46510/the-truth-about-small-towns-56d2266a57dc2) by David Baker


End file.
